Trad., Arr. Chris Devine

An earthly nourris sits and sings,
And aye she sings, "Ba lillie wain,
Little ken I my bairnie's faither,
Far less the land that he bides in."

The in steps he to her bed foot,
And a grumly guest I'm sure was he,
Saying, "Here I am, thy bairnie's faither,
Although I may no' comely be."

Then he has ta'en a purse of gold,
And he has set it on her knee,
Saying, "Gie tae me my ain young son,
And take thee up thy nourris fee."

I am a man upon the land,
And I am a selkie in the sea,
And when I'm far and far frae land,
My hame it is in Suleskerry.

It shall come to pass on a summer's day,
When the sun shines hot on every stone,
I shall come for my son,
And teach him how to swim the foam,

And thou shalt marry a proud gunner,
And a right good gunner I'm sure he'll be,
But the very first shot that e'er he shoots,
Will kill both my young song and me.

Verse 4

Copyright ©1996 by Blinding Flash of the Obvious Prods. All rights reserved.